


post-Cup devirginization smut

by sevenfists



Series: Sid/Geno Tumblr ficlets [20]
Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: Age Difference, Creampie, Loss of Virginity, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-08
Updated: 2019-09-08
Packaged: 2020-10-12 21:27:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,575
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20571167
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sevenfists/pseuds/sevenfists
Summary: He passes out for a little bit and wakes to a hand on his ankle. It’s Sid, shirtless in the pool, smiling at him. “You got room up there for me?”It’s a tight fit, but Sid manages to wriggle onto the float without dumping Zhenya into the water. Zhenya doesn’t know why Sid’s giving him this personal attention, but he’s not going to argue, and he’s flushed with pleasure as Sid settles beside him, on his belly with his legs dangling into the water.





	post-Cup devirginization smut

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Bottom Geno Week for the prompt "creampie." This is an AU where Geno is a rookie and Sid is older because I wanted to.

Zhenya’s drunk. He can’t remember the last time he was this drunk. Maybe his birthday party last year, when he puked in a potted plant because he thought it was a trash can. He’s been drunk for most of the past twenty-four hours, since the final horn went off and it was official: they had won. He came straight to Sid’s house from the airport, before the party began and before anyone else arrived, and he’s been floating on a raft in Sid’s pool ever since. Sid brought him a hamburger, and then another, and nobody seemed surprised to see Zhenya already in the pool as teammates began to trickle into the back yard. Sid likes Zhenya. The pet rookie.

Sid isn’t drunk. He’s old and boring and responsible and didn’t even seem hungover at breakfast this morning. He’s drinking a beer now as he mans the grill and chats up every person who goes over there to say hello to him, which is a good sign. Maybe he’ll get drunk enough to finally give Zhenya what he wants.

Tanger cannonballs into the pool, swamping Zhenya and the last remnants of his hamburger. He abandons his raft and goes inside, making sure to drip past Sid on his way into the house, and polishes off the rest of a container of guacamole. He’s thinking about opening another one when he hears the door to the patio slide open and then Sid’s voice saying, “You killing that bag of chips?”

Zhenya isn’t killing anything, only eating. He offers Sid a guileless smile with his cheeks stuffed full of tortilla chips and guacamole. “’S good.”

Sid’s grinning at him, flushed a little pink, so at least a beer or two deep. He’s so kind-hearted, hard-working, cheerful, annoying, and _hot_, and Zhenya stares dumbly at him for a moment, wondering how he got here, eating Sidney Crosby’s food in Sidney Crosby’s kitchen, as a Stanley Cup champion to boot. He knows how, but he still can’t quite believe it.

“I’ll make you another burger,” Sid says. “Eh? Anything you want. Another beer?”

Zhenya uses his finger to wipe the guacamole carton clean and sucks it off, which probably looks really sexy. “Whiskey.”

Sid laughs. “You don’t even like that stuff. Here, I’ve got wine coolers.”

Zhenya does like wine coolers. He lets Sid dig one out of the fridge and herd him back out to the patio with a hand on his lower back, a glowing point of contact, and then he loses track of Sid for a while in the crowd of excited teammates and family members. He plays catch with Kuni’s kids and mini Tanger, and then it’s back in the pool. Someone’s brought over a huge float shaped like a flamingo, which Zhenya manages to claim. Everyone’s kissing his ass and giving him everything he wants, and it makes him feel a little shy but also undeniably proud of himself, because he worked hard and he knows they wouldn’t have won without him. He’ll never say it, but it’s a nice thing to think about.

He passes out for a little bit and wakes to a hand on his ankle. It’s Sid, shirtless in the pool, smiling at him. “You got room up there for me?”

It’s a tight fit, but Sid manages to wriggle onto the float without dumping Zhenya into the water. Zhenya doesn’t know why Sid’s giving him this personal attention, but he’s not going to argue, and he’s flushed with pleasure as Sid settles beside him, on his belly with his legs dangling into the water.

“You’ve got the best spot,” Sid says, so maybe it’s just that.

“I steal,” Zhenya says. “Make give. It’s mine.”

“Yeah,” Sid says. He turns his head to smile at Zhenya, his head pillowed on his folded arms. His broad back is lightly freckled across the top. Zhenya’s never been with a man, but it’s an open secret on the team where Sid’s preferences lie, and Zhenya wants more than anything for Sid to show him what it’s like. He’s been trying all season. Probably Sid knows. Okay, he definitely knows. Zhenya tried to kiss him at a party a few months ago and Sid was nice about it but he told Zhenya he’s too young, which is bullshit. Zhenya’s twenty: a grownup.

Zhenya’s drunk enough that he doesn’t think first, he just reaches out and tugs a little on the waistband of Sid’s swim trunks. “Hi,” he says.

Sid’s eyes crease. “Hi.”

“We win,” Zhenya says. If he says it enough, maybe it will sink in.

“Yeah,” Sid says. “We did.”

Zhenya scoots a little closer. Someone shouts and falls into the pool, sending up a wave that washes over the float. Zhenya sputters and rakes his wet hair out of his eyes. Sid’s watching him, and something in his gaze sends a ripple of heat through Zhenya’s body. 

“You never give up, huh,” Sid says. He reaches out and picks a wet strand of hair from Zhenya’s forehead. 

“No,” Zhenya says. There’s so much else he wants to say, like how it’s Sid’s own fault for being so kind and friendly and looking like that all the time, or how he’s not a virgin and he’s even used his fingers on himself a few times and liked it. But he doesn’t have the words for it.

Sid’s eyes study his face, bright in the fading light of the long summer afternoon. Zhenya imagines Sid leaning in to kiss him, and his cheeks flame so hot he wants to roll off the float to cool himself in the pool. Sid’s fingers stroke over his cheekbone, right where he’s hottest. They’re in a bubble, surrounded by their drunken laughing teammates, but no one’s paying attention to them at all. 

“No more wine coolers,” Sid says. “Drink some water.” His eye creases deepen. “I’ll give you a tour of the house later. If you want one.”

Zhenya swallows. “Like, show me? Upstairs?”

“Yeah.” Sid’s hand cups his cheek for a moment before it drops away. “After it gets dark. People are gonna keep drinking.” He winks at Zhenya and slides off into the water. Alone on the float, Zhenya covers his face with both hands to hide his smile.

\+ + +

The evening goes on. Everyone gets drunker and louder. Wives take kids home and come back solo. Sid’s in and out of the pool, grilling steaks and burgers and sausages and making the rounds, posing with the Cup, happier than Zhenya’s ever seen him, which is saying a lot, because Sid’s a good-natured guy. Zhenya drinks a lot of water and eats a weird burger that Sid laughingly tells him is made of black beans, and resists Rusty’s efforts to get him to do shots. If Sid’s going to fuck him, he wants to be able to keep it up.

Night falls and deepens. Everyone’s singing in the pool, something Zhenya doesn’t recognize. He’s sprawled out on a lounger, thinking about reclaiming his flamingo float, when Sid comes over to him and says, “How you feeling?”

His hand’s warm on Zhenya’s shoulder. Zhenya smiles up at him and says, “Good. I drink water.”

Sid tips his head toward the house. “You want that tour?”

They go inside. Zhenya’s damp skin prickles in the robust air conditioning. Sid leads him up the back staircase from the kitchen. Zhenya hasn’t ever seen the second floor of Sid’s house, but it’s not particularly interesting: the same dark paneling as the downstairs, a series of closed or half-open doors, uninteresting nautical- or hockey-themed pictures hanging on the walls. Sid doesn’t even pretend he’s actually showing Zhenya around, just heads directly to a door at the end of the hall that turns out to be his bedroom.

“I’m not misreading this, am I?” Sid asks from behind Zhenya, as Zhenya pauses in the doorway.

“No.” Zhenya turns to look at him over one shoulder. “I just don’t think you ever…”

“It’s not that I haven’t wanted to.” Sid sets one hand on his hip, warm through Zhenya’s damp trunks. After a moment, he leans in and presses a kiss to the back of Zhenya’s neck. “Just… you know it could get messy.”

Zhenya turns and drapes his arms over Sid’s shoulders, feeling the smile tugging at his mouth and totally unable to do anything about it. “You like me.”

“Of course I do.” Sid smiles at him crookedly. “Plus you’ve been trying to climb on my dick for nine months. Hard for a guy to resist that kind of dedication.”

Zhenya flushes. Sid isn’t wrong, but he hasn’t been _that_ obvious, has he? 

Sid’s smile softens. “You’re cute,” he says, and his fingers are teasing inside the back of Zhenya’s waistband and Zhenya kisses him, just does it because he wants to and he’s still kind of drunk and Sid’s mouth looks like that, _like that_, soft and pink. Sid lets Zhenya kiss him. He kisses back. His hands are in Zhenya’s drying hair and his tongue’s in Zhenya’s mouth and this is it, _this_ is winning, with Sid’s bare torso against his own as they kiss.

“Close the door,” Sid says against his mouth, and Zhenya reaches out blindly with his foot and kicks the door closed.

Sid has a big bed with a puffy duvet and soft sheets, maybe linen. Zhenya flops down onto it and pulls Sid down with him, thrilled to have Sid’s big body on top of his as they kiss. Sid kisses his ear and his neck and Zhenya squirms at the sensation of Sid’s soft mouth, the soft skin of his face, newly bare after shaving his playoff beard. Zhenya’s hard already and Sid can probably tell, with the way they’re pressed together, but he’s not embarrassed. He’s been fantasizing about this for months. 

“Okay, hold on,” Sid says, and pulls away. At Zhenya’s wordless noise of protest, he rolls back long enough to press a quick, sloppy kiss to Zhenya’s mouth. “Just want to turn off the light.”

He climbs off the bed. Zhenya squirms around until he’s situated more comfortably against the pillows and watches Sid turn on a lamp on the bedside table and turn off the overhead light. He takes off his swim trunks while he’s at it. Zhenya’s scrawny after the long postseason, unable to put enough food into his body to keep his weight up, but Sid’s as big as ever, even a little soft around the waist. The sight of his sturdy body makes Zhenya’s stomach wriggle with terrified excitement, and then Sid turns and there’s his half-hard dick, bigger than Zhenya thought it would be. There’s no way that’s going to fit.

“What’s that face,” Sid says, grinning at him. Zhenya turns onto his side, a little overwhelmed and embarrassed that Sid’s picking up on it. The mattress dips. Sid’s hand touches his waist, and then Sid spoons up behind him, hips at a safe distance but chest pressed flush to Zhenya’s back. He kisses Zhenya’s shoulder and the back of his neck. His arm wraps around Zhenya’s waist. “Hey. You shy now?”

“No,” Zhenya says, even though he is. Sid unties his swim trunks and tugs on the waistband until it loosens. His hand dips inside, stroking Zhenya’s abdomen until he shivers, sliding lower until he’s teasing at the base of Zhenya’s dick. They’re doing this. Zhenya’s kind of freaking out but he’s so hard he’s aching and he doesn’t want Sid to stop.

Sid’s hand wraps fully around him. “I’m gonna fuck you.” His voice is low and gentle, a promise. “You want that?”

“It’s first time,” Zhenya says. Not like he’ll be able to hide that he doesn’t know what he’s doing.

“Shit.” Sid squeezes him gently. “Is it weird that I kind of like that?” He kisses Zhenya’s ear, his mouth wet and open, sending a shiver down Zhenya’s spine. “I get to show you how good it can be.”

Zhenya groans a little as Sid begins to stroke him. He believes Sid, is the thing. There’s so much certainty in Sid’s tone. He thinks Zhenya is going to love getting fucked, and Zhenya thinks he’s right.

Sid takes his hand away and sits up and tugs at Zhenya’s trunks until Zhenya turns onto his back again. “Take these off,” Sid says. He’s looking at Zhenya’s body and the shape of his dick through his trunks. “Let me see you.”

Zhenya struggles out of his trunks, cheeks hot as he flops around on the bed, lifting his hips from the mattress and fumbling with his shorts. His erection gets caught in the waistband. Sid laughs a little and helps him, and then stops helping once Zhenya’s got the shorts down around his knees and goes back to lightly touching Zhenya’s dick.

“You don’t help,” Zhenya says, finally kicking the trunks off the end of the bed.

“I’m busy,” Sid says. “Your dick is so nice. God, Geno. You won the Conn Smythe. Look at you.”

Zhenya knows what he looks like: still growing into his height, hairless and skinny. But Sid’s looking at him like he was looking at the Stanley Cup earlier, like he’s got a trophy right here in his bed. It makes Zhenya flush and say, “Kiss me,” because kissing means Sid can’t stare at him or say anything else embarrassing.

And kissing’s so good: Sid’s hungry mouth hard against his own, the way Sid groans quietly and runs his hand over Zhenya’s side. There’s so much warm, bare skin for Zhenya to put his hands on, and he grabs Sid everywhere he can reach, shoulders and back, the dip of his lower back right above his ass. He’s too shy to actually take a handful of Sid’s ass, although he thinks about it. 

Sid parts Zhenya’s thighs and lies between them, and the feeling of Sid’s stomach pressed against his hard dick has Zhenya whining and arching, eager for more. Sid’s mouth on his neck is lighting up nerves he didn’t even know he had. He’s still nervous about all the awkward in-between bits, and about how it’s probably going to hurt, but he’s also so ready for it. Sid’s been gentle with him, and Zhenya trusts him. He wants to feel Sid inside him.

He wraps his legs around Sid’s hips and his arms around Sid’s neck and says, “Sid.” And then gasps as Sid bites him a little, not hard, his teeth set in Zhenya’s collarbone. “Sid, please.”

“You sure you want it?” Sid says quietly, his face buried in Zhenya’s neck. “We can go back downstairs and I’ll make you another burger.”

Zhenya isn’t sure how Sid can interpret his eager clinging as anything other than an enthusiastic green light. He tightens his legs around Sid and says, “No. Fuck me.”

Sid kisses his pulse point. “Good. I’m tired of grilling.” He rolls to the edge of the bed and comes back with lube and coats his fingers as Zhenya clutches at him while trying to hide his face. Sid nuzzles at him and kisses his temple and forehead, patiently waiting until Zhenya unbends. It’s stupid to be embarrassed when Sid’s about to be inside him.

“It’ll be good,” Sid says, pressing kisses along Zhenya’s cheekbone as Zhenya finally stops clinging. His eyes crinkle as he smiles at Zhenya. “Hey. I’ll take care of you.”

“I know,” Zhenya says. Sid’s careful attention has left no doubt in his mind. He’s still nervous, though.

Sid gets Zhenya to hold his leg out of the way, up near his chest, and that’s embarrassing but he also likes feeling so exposed, the way Sid’s looking at him, how Sid’s hand feels when he rubs lube between Zhenya’s thighs, smearing it behind his balls and over his hole. Zhenya knew he was sensitive there, but it’s different with someone else touching him: better, more. Sid lingers there for a long time, stroking Zhenya in gentle, maddening circles until his thighs are jumping with every touch.

“You ever do this for yourself?” Sid asks, stroking his free hand up Zhenya’s quivering leg.

“Yes,” Zhenya says, meeting Sid’s eyes, pretending he’s not ashamed even though his face is hot. “I like.”

Sid bends to kiss the inside of Zhenya’s knee. “You’re gonna feel so good on my dick,” he murmurs, and then he glances up and the eye contact is searing. Zhenya arches into Sid’s touch without really meaning to, just so ready for something to happen beyond Sid touching him like that, over and over while Zhenya gets so worked up he feels like he’s going to burst out of his skin. His dick’s leaking steadily onto his stomach, and he knows Sid can see.

“Sid,” Zhenya groans, and kicks at Sid’s side a little, gently. “Hurry up!”

Sid grins. “Oh, you want something?” But he pushes a finger in deep, and then adds a second right away, which is great. Zhenya clenches around them happily. It’s even better when Sid curls his fingertips and—that’s, _oh_. Zhenya hears the noises he’s making and can’t stop. It feels so good, way better than when Zhenya has done it to himself, muffling his sounds in his pillow and pretending he isn’t fantasizing about Sid.

Sid lies down beside him so they can kiss. It can’t be a great angle for his wrist, but he doesn’t say anything about it, just slowly works his fingers inside Zhenya and lets Zhenya suck on his tongue. Zhenya turns toward him, releasing his leg to let it drape over Sid’s hip, and that’s better, that’s—it’s perfect, it’s exactly what he needs.

“You ready?” Sid asks against Zhenya’s mouth.

Is he? He isn’t sure how to tell. Maybe? But he wants it. He rolls onto his back again and pulls Sid with him, between his legs. Sid’s sweaty body rubs against his, his dick pressed against Zhenya’s, both of them smeared with lube and pre-come. “Ready.”

Sid sits back on his knees to apply more lube, both to Zhenya and to his own cock, fully hard now and more than a little intimidating. He slides his fingers in deep, draws them out, adds more lube. “You have the tightest, sweetest little hole,” he says. “Wish I could watch you all stretched out on my dick.”

Zhenya swallows. “You can.”

“I’d rather be close,” Sid says. His gaze darts up to Zhenya’s. His mouth twitches. “Next time, maybe.”

Next time. Zhenya reaches for him, his heart throbbing with joy. Sid isn’t going to pretend this never happened. Maybe he’ll get to do it again.

Sid comes down into Zhenya’s arms. He’s heavy, but it’s good. There’s some shifting around. Sid gets a hand between their bodies to guide himself in. The head of his dick is a blunt pressure at Zhenya’s hole. “Take a breath and push out,” Sid says. Zhenya does, and there’s more pressure, and then the intensely strange feeling of Sid breaching him, bigger than fingers and _more_ in every way. Zhenya grips Sid’s shoulders, not sure he likes this, wanting Sid both to stop and to keep going forever.

“You’re okay,” Sid says, sloppily kissing Zhenya’s jaw. “Keep breathing. You can take it.”

“It’s too big,” Zhenya says, as Sid sinks inside, but that isn’t really what he means. It’s too _something_, it’s too much, Sid’s splitting him open, he’s never felt like this before. He’s tense all over and gets tenser as Sid bottoms out. He’s so _full_.

“You’re okay,” Sid says again. He mouths at Zhenya’s ear, kissing and sucking as he moves his hips in a first gentle thrust. Zhenya’s knees clamp around Sid’s ribs. He fumbles a hand down between their bodies to grab his dick, which turns out to be a mistake, because the tension in his body abruptly clarifies: he’s going to come.

“Sid,” he says, a little frantic, because this is way too soon, but there’s no way he can stop it. The next roll of Sid’s hips sends him over, shaking and crying out, making so much noise he’s glad the windows are closed. It’s so intense, and messy, too, a sudden rush of wet come between their bodies.

“Wow,” Sid says. Zhenya feels him shifting around, and when he manages to open his eyes, Sid’s propped up on his elbows, beaming down at him. “You like it, eh?”

Zhenya thinks that ‘like’ is too simple a word to encompass all of the things he’s feeling. “Seems like it,” he says in Russian, too wiped out to scrape together a response in English. 

Sid laughs and lowers himself down again, nuzzling at Zhenya’s ear and neck. “You done? You want to keep going?” He rolls his hips again. It’s a lot. He feels huge, and Zhenya’s so sensitive from coming. Zhenya’s legs have gone lax, but he tightens them again, clinging to Sid, not really sure he wants to keep going. What happens if they stop? Sid goes downstairs and returns to the grill? Zhenya doesn’t want that, either.

“Maybe—slow,” he says. He’s really sensitive now.

“I’ll be careful,” Sid promises, and he is, although Zhenya’s tense and wincing through the first few thrusts. After that it starts to feel good again, and soon he’s gasping and tugging at Sid’s hair. Sid’s steady and relentless, and it isn’t long before Zhenya realizes he’s getting hard again. That maybe he’s going to come again, with Sid moving inside him.

He’s going out of his mind. The angle’s really good, and he clutches at Sid’s shoulders and moans as Sid fucks him deep and slow. If he’d known it could feel like this, he would have at least bought himself a dildo instead of relying solely on his fingers. But now he’s got Sid: real and warm and holding him, making soft noises of his own against Zhenya’s neck as they move together.

Then Sid pulls out. “Turn onto your side,” he says, and waits while Zhenya does, feeling awkward and gangly. Sid spoons up behind him and it’s an easy slide for him to push back in, and then he’s got an arm around Zhenya’s waist and is holding him close and kissing the back of his neck and murmuring quiet things to him that Zhenya tries not to listen to, because he wants this so much and is afraid of getting it. 

He likes Sid so much. He’s been the best part of Zhenya’s season: more than the Conn Smythe, more than the Cup, because he’s had those for twenty-four hours and Sid for nine months. Sid’s kept him going when he wanted to give up and go back to Magnitogorsk, because he wants to play with Sid and have Sid smile at him and pass to him on the power play. And fuck him. That part’s pretty great, too. Even better than Zhenya had hoped. 

“You feel so good,” Sid mutters, his arm tight around Zhenya’s waist. He rocks into Zhenya, shallow, all he can manage in this position, but it’s perfect. He’s getting Zhenya just right. “G, Geno, Jesus Christ,” and he uses his teeth on Zhenya’s nape, a gentle pressure that makes Zhenya whine. 

Zhenya can’t hold out. He wraps one hand around his dick. He’s still sensitive from his first orgasm and he whines again at the touch, but he’s urgent, too. The feelings rolling through his body are more than he can handle. He needs to come. 

“You touching yourself?” Sid asks. He mouths at the back of Zhenya’s neck. “You want to come again?”

“Yes,” Zhenya scrapes out. He’s really dying. He tugs at himself fast and frantic. Sid rocks his hips again and then slides his hand between Zhenya’s legs to grope his dick, kind of interfering with Zhenya’s efforts, but it feels so good that Zhenya doesn’t mind. It’s good to have Sid’s hand on him and Sid’s cock pressing him open. He lets Sid take over. Sid’s grip is too loose and he doesn’t move his hand fast enough, but he’s still going to make Zhenya come.

“I’m going to come in you,” Sid says very quietly, like he’s sharing a secret. “And then send you back downstairs still leaking. Just make a mess out of your ass. Mess up your swimsuit.” He works his hand over Zhenya’s cock, tighter now. “You want that? Geno—”

Zhenya’s past responding. He never expected Sid to have a dirty mouth on him, and it’s more than he can take. He’s tensing up to come and there’s no fighting it. Sid rocks forward and Zhenya’s whole body locks up, his toes curl, he goes still, and then he’s crying out as he comes in Sid’s hand.

Sid grabs Zhenya’s hip with his wet hand. A few hard thrusts, deep enough to make Zhenya shudder, and Sid’s groaning as his hot come fills Zhenya, just like he said.

“Oh, fuck,” Sid pants. He presses his forehead to Zhenya’s nape. “God. That was so good.”

Zhenya tugs at Sid’s arm until it’s wrapped around his waist again. He feels like he’s glowing. It really was good, and now he’s got Sid all wrapped around him, not making excuses or kicking him out but holding him close and dropping kisses along his hairline, like he’s glad to have Zhenya in his bed.

Sid takes his arm away after a minute and reaches down to ease his cock out of Zhenya’s ass. It doesn’t feel great; kind of clammy. But Sid pushes a finger back in, gliding through his come, and Zhenya clenches down happily. Give him ten or fifteen minutes and he could probably go again.

Sid plays with him for a while as Zhenya drowses. He’s not really sleepy, but it’s nice to lie there with Sid so warm behind him and enjoy how well-fucked and content he feels. He knows the party’s still raging outside, but he doesn’t care. He’d rather be with Sid.

“How are you getting home?” Sid asks at last. He’s got two fingers pushed in deep. Most of his come has leaked out by now, sticky on Zhenya’s thighs and damp on the sheets, but he doesn’t seem inclined to stop.

Zhenya shrugs. His parents were here earlier, but they left when it got dark. He could probably beg a ride from someone or get Sid to call him a car service. He’ll figure it out.

“You could stay here,” Sid says. He finally takes his fingers out. There’s a soft rustle as he wipes them on the sheets. Then he’s wrapping his arms around Zhenya, drawing him close, kissing his neck and his shoulder. “I’ll make you breakfast in the morning.”

Zhenya flushes with happiness. He turns over in Sid’s arms so he can see Sid’s face. Sid wrinkles his nose, which is adorable, and then laughs softly as Zhenya kisses him.

“Stay,” Sid says between kisses. “Sleep here. I’ll make you breakfast and eat you out.”

Zhenya doesn’t know what that means, but he’s game for anything. He tucks his face in the crook of Sid’s neck and breathes him in. This is the best day of his life: better than getting drafted, better than playing his first game on Pittsburgh ice. He doesn’t know what will happen over the summer or next season, but he’ll start with breakfast.

“Yes, I stay,” he says.


End file.
